


People will talk

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 5+ 1, Bisexual John, Confused John, First Kiss, M/M, Neck Kissing, New Years Eve Kiss, People Will Talk, Sherlock is a git
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23798095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John is obsessed with the idea of other people talking about him, while Sherlock could care less.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 84





	People will talk

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this in one night and im running on a bang energy drink good luck

John and Sherlock were walking down the street, still high off the post-case endorphins. Shoulders brushing, red faces, and breathless comments. Some may say it seems like they were busy… doing something else. They just get caught up in cases. Something about it, maybe the way Sherlock rattles off deductions immediately, or the way they share under-the-breath comments, or possibly the small smiles as they gaze at the dead body just seems to rile John up. 

Lost in his thoughts, he felt Sherlock grab his hand as they walked towards the crowd. Coming back to reality, he hesitated.

People will talk

Sherlock didn’t even bother glancing up at him. He, realistically, already knew everything he needed to know. Maybe it was because of the big crowd? Don’t want to get lost. Yeah. It’s definitely that. 

“Uh, Sherlock?” John cleared his throat, hoping to catch his attention. When the taller man didn’t answer, John tightened their clasp, letting Sherlock guide him along. After walking in silence for a little, Sherlock finally said something.

“You are clueless, huh?” 

John made eye contact with him, his eyes narrowing trying to process. About what? Clueless about what? There is nothing to be clueless about! Sherlock shook his head, waving down a taxi. 

“I’m not clueless, you got. I was just… wondering.” He mumbled, which made Sherlock chuckle. 

Once a cabbie switched over to pick them up, Sherlock opened the door and got in first. “221B Baker Street,” John said to the cab driver once he got sat down. Sherlock let go of his hand, running his hand through his hair and tipping his head back. What the hell? He felt the cab moving forward as his head swirled. 

Sherlock ‘married to his work’ Holmes took his hand as they walked throughout London. In front everyone, where anyone could see. And John wasn’t gay. Well… 

We’ll go with that. Not gay. 

Letting out a sigh, he leaned against the window and let his thoughts consume him.

***

The loud music and laughing of the pub surrounded the two. Well three. John, Sherlock, and Greg were in a pub. On their first round of drinks, John’s cheeks were dusted pink as they shared and joked around. 

“Alright mates, I’ll be right back. Need to visit the loo.” Greg interjected into their conversation, standing up and flashing an award winning smile. The alcohol was certainly hitting him. 

“Who would have guessed Greg was a lightweight.” John joked, taking a drink of lager. He saw Sherlock trying to process who the hell Greg was, obviously forgetting. “Lestrade?” 

“He obviously is, thinking he can take anything but really bites off more than he can chew. Typical Yard.” Sherlock said, as if that was obvious. “Everyone in the yard thinks they are above everyone else. It’s actually quite adorable.” John rolled his eyes, making Sherlock grin and sling an arm around the doctors shoulders. The former-soldiers eyes shot up, meeting the detectives, probably deducing, eyes. 

“Thinking they are above everyone else? Sounds a little familiar to me.” John mumbled, and then got to see the process of Sherlock not understanding a joke.

After keeping their stares locked for a few moments, John relaxed against him slightly. He took a drink, forming his thoughts together. He felt Sherlock’s hand gently rubbing his shoulder, probably just a subconscious movement but for John was a movement he was more than conscious about. 

“What, ah, are you doing?” John started, unsure on how to go about this. He felt like a teen again, nervous butterflies in his stomach. Which did not make the situation better, considering Sherlock was his probably straight flatmate and John was… for a lack of better term, heterosexual.

“You aren’t stupid, John.” Sherlock said, in a monotone voice. He clinked their glasses together, making John look back up. 

“Never said I was, Mr. Married-To-My-Work-Holmes.” 

Sherlock let out a throaty chuckle, brushing back a misplaced hair on John's forehead. “Not sure how you ever get a girl. Oblivious.”

“Sherlock, people--”John started, before Greg appeared in his line of sight. Will talk. He fully expected to be let go of, but Sherlock’s arm didn’t falter even a little. Greg’s eyes took in the scene, before sitting down. 

“I don’t know about you guys but I need another drink. Next round on me?” He said, still eyeing them suspiciously. He always thought something was going on, but this was more than enough evidence for him. Sherlock grinned, while seducing him in his head. Greg clearly didn’t need another round, but sensed John might. With a feeling of satisfaction, he bumped his leg against John’s. 

After another round and thirty minutes of John being hyper-aware of Sherlock, they parted their ways. John found his hand on the small of Sherlock's back as they walked home, convincing himself he was just stabilizing a tipsy Sherlock. 

***

“Are you going to order something?” John asked Sherlock after handing his menu to the waiter. Sherlock shook his head, making John kick his shin under the table. This made him roll his eyes. They were at the corner booth, where Sherlock had a full view of the door, window, and John’s side profile.

“I’ll have whatever John had.” Sherlock said, like a child whose mother just forced him to talk to a relative on the phone. John let out a sigh fondly, his foot resting back on the ground, he had been fully prepared to kick him again. John thanked the waiter, before clearing his throat and checking his phone. He felt a hand on his thigh, but he forced himself to not react. Apparently he was going to need to chill out about… this sudden display of affection, as Sherlock had suddenly become way more invested in it. 

When John didn’t react, Sherlock moved his hand farther up. Not enough to actually do anything, but he just wanted a reaction. Taking a deep breath, John ignored it. Shifting in his seat, Sherlock nudged his leg against John’s knee to get his attention. 

“What do you want?” John snapped, finally looking up from his phone. Sherlock let a smile form on his face, leaving his leg pressed against John’s. 

“Can’t I just chat with my flatmate? You just got home from work and you are still doing work on your phone.” The all-knowing detective said, but continued when he felt John was going to protest. “Don’t say you are just ‘checking your phone’ because I know you are sending an email.” 

“You’re a cock. Fucking git.” John laughed after about a quarter of a minute of intense eye contact. Sherlock grinned, his hand squeezing John’s leg lightly. John’s face flushed ever so slightly as he set his phone down. 

After eating their meal and making small talk, the duo walked out of the restaurant and walked the short distance to their flat. John fumbled with his key, finally getting it. Sherlock suddenly reached down and pressed his lips to John’s, his hand going to the back of his neck. John froze. 

People will talk.

Right here? On the street? On a Thursday evening? London is huge and anyone could be here. 

John finally got his bearings and pressed back, the key long forgotten. His hands went to Sherlocks chest and hip as if it was second nature. Once Sherlock got a response he was looking for, he stopped and pushed past John to get inside their flat, leaving John breathless on the doorstep. 

He felt his phone buzzing from a text. This brought him back to reality. He checked it, seeing it was from Greg.

GREG: Didn’t know you and Sherlock were together mate, but I’m happy for you guys

His eyes looked up from his phone, scanning the sidewalk to see if he was around. Must be talking about the night from the pub.

JOHN: Crazy how it happens. Thanks mate. 

***

They were leaving the crime scene after Sherlock solved it in under ten minutes. Laughing and giggling, they pulled each other along. They weren’t far from home, so walking was a viable option. John felt an arm wrap around his waist as they went, and he didn’t even stutter mentally like all the times in the past. 

Messing with the door lock, Sherlock wrapped his other arm around his shoulders from behind and kissed his neck lightly. John pressed his body back against Sherlock’s, his hand shaking as he tried to open the door. While he loved whatever the hell was happening to his neck, he still couldn’t get over what people would say.

He was confident he wasn’t straight, but it’s not like everyone knew that. Just him, Sherlock, and Greg apparently, judging by the text he received the previous week. 

“Jesus, open the door John.” Sherlock mumbled against his neck, making John let out an embarrassing groan. He did, pulling Sherlock in and closing the door. Sherlock pressed him against the wall with a soft thud. One of John’s hands went to the taller man's hair, running his fingers through it as the other went under Sherlock’s coat and around his back. He felt hands running up and down his chest, before settling on his wrist to pull him up their stairs. 

Once in their flat, John quickly took off his shoes and pulled Sherlock onto the sofa. He found with his arms full of a detective and a warm feeling building in his chest. Their legs slotted together, quiet and shared groans being the only thing heard in the flat. John’s back arched up when Sherlock started kissing down his jaw, neck, and then collarbone. They were quickly reaching a new boundary of intimacy, which John quickly broke when he started to unbutton his shirt.

Sherlock took his opportunity to keep going, his hand that wasn’t holding him up was helping John get his shirt off as fast as possible. After untucking his shirt, it laid open and gave Sherlock free range to discover. John let his head fall back, given up on hiding his sounds of obvious pleasure. 

The moment was shattered by Sherlock’s phone going off. Sherlock ignored it, letting it ring until it stopped. They phoned again, and he intended to ignore it again. 

“Bloody hell.” John mumbled, reaching into Sherlock’s back pocket and answered it. It was Mycroft. “Hey.” He started, breathless. Sherlock didn’t want to stop his touch, in which John glared down at him for. 

“Hello, John?” Mycroft formally responded, checking to make sure he called the right person. “Is Sherlock nearby? I need to have a word with him.” 

“Ye-ah, he is.” He brought the phone down to Sherlock, who shook his head. John rolled his eyes, putting Mycroft on speaker. “You’re on speaker.”

“Why can’t he just-- what are you guys doing…” Mycroft questioned to himself out loud, but before either of them could answer he spoke again. “Actually, I don’t want to know anymore. Please call me in five minutes, not snogging.” Sherlock laughed as John’s breath got caught in his throat.

***

“Sherlock we really need to discuss this.” John pulled him aside after meeting up with Molly, Greg, and Mycroft. They found themself in a dark alley. 

“Discuss what?” Sherlock asked, pretending like he didn’t know what John was referring to. He obviously knew, and was a meer half a foot away from John, who was almost against the wall. 

“Don’t act stupid! You keep- everytime we get time alone you just-.” John sputtered, clearly affected by how close they were. Sherlock walked John back against the wall. “This is what I’m talking about! You always do this and I don’t know why!”

“Always do what? You have to be more clear, doctor.” Sherlock said, his tone acting uninterested as he let his hand drift across John’s neck. 

“That! What you are doing right now!” John said, as if it was obvious. He felt his hands drift to Sherlock’s back and chest, not being able to fight that. Sherlock let his head drop to John’s neck, kissing it before mumbling against his skin.

“Do you not like it?” 

“I- ah, I do but-” 

“Then what is the problem?” 

“People, you know, will-” John tried to say for the fifth time, but Sherlock scoffed, his lips shutting John’s up. Sherlock let his legs open slightly, and John flipped them. He was pressing Sherlock against the brick wall and completely flipping the script. This is what he is more used to, considering he is usually with women and not a lanky, witty detective. 

Sherlock let his back slide down against the wall to give John better access. John laced his hand through Sherlock’s hair, the other one pressing against the wall next to Sherlock’s head. He stepped forward, closer, so he was in between both of the long legs that seemed to go on for ages. 

Sherlocks hands fumbled with his belt, but John swatted his hands away.

“Not here.” John forced himself to say. He wanted it so bad, but they were in public for god’s sake. He pulled back, his head foggy again. 

“We need to go home now.”

***

Their flat had all of their closest friends over for a New Year’s Eve party. It was about 11:30, and they were talking by the window for the first time that night. John had brought him a drink Sherlock, who was leaning against the wall and watching the party.

“Are you going to talk to anyone? Not just stand in the corner of your own party?” 

“I’m talking to someone now, aren’t I?” Sherlock countered, taking the drink with a grin on his face. 

“Oh whatever.” John rolled his eyes, but rested his arm on the window seal. They were just a small distance apart, ignoring the fact that only two people in this room are aware of their… closer than normal relationships. He was also trying to ignore the looming ball drop at midnight. He wanted to kiss Sherlock, but was too scared to ask. 

“Stop thinking. It’s annoying.” Sherlock broke his train of thought, standing up straight to face John. “You already know your answer so there's no point in stressing about it.”

“You don’t even know what I’m thinking! I didn’t say anything.” John laughed, before continuing. “You are smart, a literal genius, but no. I don’t know my answer.” 

“Please keep complimenting my intelligence, real stroke to my ego.” Sherlock said flatly, lifting his drink up to the light to observe it better. “Of course I’m going to kiss you at midnight.”

“Sherlock, all of your friends are here.” John shook his head, looking at his feet. 

“Okay? Look at me.” Sherlock said, waiting for eye contact. He stepped slightly closer, his hand fumbling with the cuff of John’s shirt that was folded to his elbow. “I don't know how you haven't noticed yet, but I don’t care if people talk. I don't know why you care so much but you do and it’s really annoying.”

“Half of the Scotland Yard is here. They will give you shit about it at crime scenes.” John pointed out, shifting toward him subconsciously. 

“They already do, you idiot. And we both know this entire room will actually support us. Even if they give us shit, they are the Yard, they really don’t care.” John went to rebuttal his point, but Sherlock kept talking. “Ms. Hudson already thinks we are together. Greg knows, or atleast has an idea.”

“He texted me, he knows.” John confirmed, looking away to take a drink and ignore all the facts thrown in front of him. 

“Exactly. Mycroft thinks, well knows, there is something going on.” His hand moved from his arm to his waist. No one was even paying attention, too busy watching the TV. Three minutes til the ball dropped. 

“Fine, you’re right. I’m just… used to different types of relationships, not one I actually care about.” He admitted, letting himself be pulled closer to Sherlock. “Not that I didn’t care about all of my past girlfriends, but you know what I mean.” Sherlock chuckled, a small smile on his face.  
“So ignoring your past girlfriends was a good idea?” Sherlock jokes. “Always knew they weren't right for you.” 

“Oh Sherlock, you are the only one right for me.” John murmured, giving in and leaning against him. 

Suddenly everyone in the room started counting down. John set down his glass, biting his lip. He wasn’t nervous-- well yes he was. 

It’ll be fine. 

10 

9

8

John took Sherlock’s glass out of his hand and set it down. 

7

6 

5

Sherlock rubbed his hand across John’s back, before joining in on the count down.

4

3

2 

John reached up and wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck, pulling him down.

1

The entire room cheered at the start of a new year, while their lips met in a firm but truly meaningful kiss. Sherlock brought his other hand to John’s hip, holding him close as the room died down. 

They finally let each other breathe and rested their foreheads together, relishing the start of a new year.


End file.
